Enough
by RaeC
Summary: SLASH: Harry disappeared from Hogwarts during his seventh year. The wizarding world mourned his death at the hands of Voldemort. Four years later, he returned. It was not his choice.
1. Prologue: Going Home

Disclaimer: Not mine, not making money, etc. This is slash. Do not read if slash offends you. 

Enough 

Prologue: Going Home 

October 15th, 2001, 3:00pm 

The man shuffled along the path in the afternoon heat, his feet barely managing to lift off the ground. His dark hair was matted and filled with debris from sleeping on the ground. His skin caked with dirt, wounds old and new marred most of his exposed skin. Dark splotches that were probably blood covered his tattered robes. His legs trembled, his body shivering as if it was the middle of winter and he without a coat. He wouldn't survive without help sometime soon. Like right now. 

His goal was a small cabin that was only a few more yards in front of him, but exhaustion made it seem miles away. The only thing that kept the young man on his feet and moving was the mantra singing in his head…almost there, almost there. 

The cabin door creaked open, its owner watching the stranger approach warily. 

Green eyes barely focusing acknowledged the new presence with a measure of relief. He kept moving forward. Almost there. Almost there. 

A flurry of brown robes, worn at the edges and oft mended blended together with the golden skin of the arms that surrounded him and a shocked voice muttering his name. "Harry!?" 

"Remus." Harry Potter smiled blissfully, for the moment safe. The werewolf would take care of him was his last thought as he blacked out. 

---

October 31st, 2001, 4:40pm 

Harry awoke in an unfamiliar room surrounded with comfort. It was an odd feeling. He felt safe, safe for the first time in four years. The feeling lasted all of two seconds when he realized where he was. He wasn't safe here. Of all of the places in the world, other than with the Dursley's, this was the worst place he could be. This was where he had been seized the first time. 

He felt as if the arms from his nightmares were slipping around him, choking him, the whisper of a spell paralyzing him, and his breath quickened as panic took hold. He had to get out of here. His body ached and objected to moving at all, but Harry didn't care. He moved as quickly as he could from the bed. This wasn't the hospital wing so he must have been here for some time. 'What day was it? What day!?' 

He grabbed clothes from the dresser not caring if they fit. His only thought was get out, get away. Find someplace safe to hide. The one thing he had counted on was Remus keeping his existence hidden and now… 

**_They_** would know Harry was still alive. **_They_** would know where he was. 

Harry slipped out of the door and into the shadows of the hallway. His steps were light and quiet. Only an animal with sharp hearing would have been able to hear his passing. It was a skill learned by necessity, rather than taught. And he had the scars to prove it. Though it was nothing like the scar that throbbed in warning right now. 

'No. Not now! Not yet!' 

Harry hurried toward safety, toward freedom, following the twists and turns of the stairs and corridors by blind instinct. His blood sang hotly through his veins beating to the rhythm of the encroaching night. He breathed carefully through his nose and listened for the sound of anyone else that might happen to be near as he all but ran for the entrance. He almost made it as the first spasm slammed into him and he fell to the floor. 

Harry screamed as if he was being ripped apart. He never made it out of the doors of Hogwarts. 

--- 

The howl of a wolf broke Severus' concentration. The potion, which he'd been working on for days, spilled half finished to the floor. 'I'll kill Lupin.' With a flick of his wrist, his wand fell from his sleeve into his palm and he cleaned the mess from the floor and his workbench before stalking out of the room in search of the wayward werewolf. 

As he made his way from the dungeons to the Great Hall, Sirius Black nearly ran him over. "Black…" 

"Snape…" Sirius grabbed his collar and snarled. 

"What's Lupin…" 

"What did you…" 

"...doing outside his chambers?" 

"...do to Remus!" 

"What?" 

Sirius paled. "Remus is in his room." 

"Then what are you blathering on about? And what was that awful noise? Did you forget to take care of his needs before he changed, Black?" Severus sneered. 

"It. Wasn't. Remus!" Sirius growled. "He's crawling the walls, Snape. You did something to his potion." 

"I did nothing of the sort. The potion was perfect as always." 

A new howl crammed the deserted hallways. 

"Merlin…" Sirius shuddered. 

"Lupin is still in your chambers?" 

"Yes. I locked the door behind me." Sirius nodded, his dark hair falling into his eyes. 

"I'm going to find Dumbledore." Twisting free from Black, Snape hurried off in the direction of the Headmaster's office, Sirius falling into step behind him. Who, or whatever it was, was inside Hogwarts, a danger to any student who happened to be wandering at this time of night. At the entrance of the Great Hall, they were met by a horrified Headmaster who stood leaning against a wall simply staring at the creature, along with several other teachers. 

There lying in the entrance to the Great Hall was the werewolf, in obvious agony, its body writhing on the floor; sharp, **_aware_** eyes that pleaded to be put out of its misery. Its coat glowed in the moonlight, a silver halo surrounding its body. 

Black choked out a barely heard 'Harry?' that Severus almost missed in the howling of the wolf. A wolf that looked remarkably like the creature that had sat in anguish at Voldemort's feet for the past three years. It was an animal that Snape would know anywhere. Four bright white strips stood out upon his back, outlining the silver tattooed scars and those green-gold eyes that had watched with such intelligence his every move every time he made an appearance at the Death Eater meetings. All this time Harry had been right under his nose and he didn't know. 

Horror filled him as he realized just what Harry had seen and what he'd seen Harry do in Voldemort's name. It was enough to make him want to run back to his rooms and drink himself into oblivion. Harry was very much alive and the most wanted criminal in the country. But for now, someone had to shut the wolf…no the boy up. And he was the only one who knew how. 

Snape pulled a bottle from his pocket, conjured a bowl and poured the contents into it before pushing it over to Harry with his foot. Nothing would get him within twenty feet of the…Snape didn't even know what to call Harry anymore. He just knew how dangerous the boy really was. It wouldn't be much longer before the pain overcame any sense Harry retained in this form and he lashed out at anyone that came close to him. 

With a grateful look, the boy lapped at the mixture in the bowl until it was gone and huddled on the floor waiting for the potion to take affect. 

"Snape…" 

"What now, Black?" 

"I think you've got some explaining to do." 

Severus nodded, pulled his wand out of his sleeve, but never took his eyes off of Harry. He wasn't moving until Harry passed out. 

It all made sense now…the last meeting with Voldemort. 

_"So, Harry Potter is alive after all?" _

_"Yes, my Lord." _

_"Good, good. You will keep a sharp eye on the boy and let me know if anything unusual happens, won't you, Severus?" Voldemort hissed in a weird sort of pleasure, anticipation lacing his every word. _

_"Yes, my Lord." _

_"Now, what news do you have for me?" _

The memory trailed off only to be replaced by the realization that it wasn't the return of Lupin that caused many of his Slytherins to disappear from the school, but Harry's presence. They had all assumed that someone had seen Lupin arrive with Harry's half broken form his arms and panicked. 

No, this was Voldemort doing. Voldemort had anticipated a blood bath and Snape would have been the first to go. He was supposed to be in the room with the boy. He never would have known he was in danger until it was too late. 

It was a devious plan. He had kidnapped the boy leaving everyone to believe he was dead. All the while, Voldemort had been training his pet to be more vicious. Last month, his potion was barely able to control the animal. The one he'd given Harry tonight was something new he'd been working on. They were extremely lucky it worked at all. Otherwise, Harry would now be dead. 

Was Harry's escape from Voldemort planned? It all seemed too coincidental for Severus. And Snape didn't believe in accidents. 

Harry whimpered and crawled forward to Severus, begging for something. Pleading with his eyes before they rolled up into his head and he passed out. 

"Is he…" 

"Alive? I haven't a clue, Black." 

"What did you give him?" Sirius was ready to rip out his throat for the second time that night. 

"The only thing that would give him some relief. The," Snape waved at his feet expecting Black to understand the significance of his next words, "boy is…*was* Voldemort's pet werewolf." Nearly everyone in the hallway paled. 

Dumbledore chose this moment to interrupt whatever Sirius was about to say. "I think we should take this conversation back to my office now that the crisis has passed. Poppy, do you think you can keep Harry contained in the med wing until we can find a permanent solution to the problem?" 

"I'll use one of the private rooms, Headmaster." Poppy levitated Harry and headed for her domain. Severus continued to watch until they both disappeared around the corner and then turned toward the Headmaster's office himself.

---

tbc...  
  



	2. Little Snake, Little Snake

**Chapter One: Little Snake, Little Snake, Where Have You Been?**

- July 31st, 1996 -
    
    ---

"Boy!  Get up!"  

Harry fell out of his bed with his head pounding.   It couldn't be morning already.  

"Move!"  Uncle Vernon hissed.

"I'm up, I'm up."  Harry grumbled as he put his glasses on.  Couldn't this wait?  

His uncle stood at the door, sneering.  "Quiet and get your things together.  You're leaving."

Yes!  Who was here?  Remus?  Sirius?  

Getting dressed, Harry pulled on his cargoes, a white t-shirt, socks, and ran his fingers through his hair to get the worst of the tangles out. He pulled on his trainers, his fingers stumbling over the laces as he rushed to get them tied.  "Where am I going?"  

"I don't care, boy, and I don't want to know."  

Confused, Harry stared at his uncle.  "Who's here?"

"Get moving."  Ignoring Harry's question, Uncle Vernon gestured at his truck.  "You have five minutes to pack."

Shrugging the question off as not important, Harry packed his things into his trunk. "That's everything."

His uncle grabbed the trunk and carried it downstairs.  Harry followed him to the front door.  "What time is it?"

"Midnight."  Harry did **not **like the look on Uncle Vernon's face.  The man was smiling.  Satisfied.

"Oh," he said.  Were the Death Eaters waiting outside?  Was his uncle really handing him over to them?  And why wasn't Dumbledore doing anything to stop this?

His uncle opened the door and pushed his trunk out onto the grass.  "Get out."

"Where's Aunt Petunia?"  Harry wasn't taking one step out that door, until he knew what was going on.  

"Sleeping and in full agreement with me.  We want you gone.  You've been a burden on this family long enough.  Legally, we are no longer responsible for you.    And you make sure you tell your _people_ that."

Then it hit him.  It was his birthday.  He was sixteen.  

"Get out, boy!  Out!" His uncle grabbed his arm and pushed him roughly outside.  "You're no longer welcome here."  

Harry stumbled down the steps as the door slammed shut, quickly followed by the lock clicking into place.  Yay, Happy Birthday to me.

Harry looked up and down the street.   Just what he needed, something else for newspapers.  He could imagine tomorrow's headline – **_Boy Who Lived Needs Place to Live.  _** Snape was going to have a field day with this.  

And where was the person who was supposed to be on duty for the order tonight?  They should have made an appearance by now.  Unless, of course, they'd taken off and left him alone as well.  Harry stalked over to his trunk and flopped down on it.   This was just bloody brilliant.  

An owl dropped a letter at his feet, which Harry couldn't be bothered to read right now.  He put it in his pocket for later.  What a way to start his birthday.  More owls dropped presents and letters on the ground.  Hedwig landed on his shoulder with his present from Ron, which he removed and put in his trunk with the others.

So, no order and fortunately, no Voldemort.  What was he going to do for the rest of the summer and where was he going to go?  Dumbledore wouldn't let him stay with the Weasleys.  And he couldn't put Hermione's family in that kind of danger.  They didn't have anyway of defending themselves.  That left Hogwarts.

Harry sighed and opened his trunk, looking for his wand and his money pouch.   How much money _did_ he have?  He'd planned to replenish his funds when he went to get his school supplies and he knew he didn't have much left in his pouch at the end of the year.  Two galleons, it wasn't much, but it would be enough.  

First things first, catch the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron and he could figure out things once he got there.

Harry shrank his trunk and placed it in his pocket.  It didn't really matter to him anymore what the Ministry thought of his use of magic outside of school.  They _could_ take away his wand, but they wouldn't.  He was too famous, too _needed_, and the Ministry could no longer deny that Voldemort had returned.  

Harry held his wand out and signalled for the bus.  

A loud bang rent the air as the Knight Bus came flying down the road screeching to a halt in front of him.  A conductor in a purple uniform stepped from the bus to help Harry aboard all the while chattering away. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Phillo Philpot, and I will be your conductor this evening.  North, South, East, West, what's your pleasure, sir?"

"What's happened to Stan?"

"Eh, Stan, he's gone on to greener pastures and down right happier in the bargain."

Harry nodded and climbed aboard.  

"Luggage, sir?" 

"No."  Harry shook his head.

"This here bed all right with ya?"

"Fine, fine."

"Now, where to mate."

"Leaky Cauldron."

"That'll be fourteen sickles for the bed.  And an extra three sickles will get you hot chocolate or..."

"No thanks.  Just the bed."  Harry handed over the fare and was about to settle into the bed when Phillo spoke again.  

"What's your name?" As dishevelled as he was, Harry was hoping he'd go unnoticed.  The driver and the conductor weren't the same people as last time.  No one knew where he lived, right?  He just might get away with it.

"Oh, sorry."  Harry thought quickly and held out his hand.  "Billy Baggins."

Phillo shook his hand enthusiastically.  "Welcome aboard Mr. Baggins.  Enjoy your ride.  We'll be at the Leaky Cauldron by morning."

Harry fell back into the bed too exhausted to worry about the speed of the vehicle or the frantic turns it took.  He was asleep within minutes.

---

"Mr. Baggins."

"Coming, Uncle Vernon."  Harry mumbled as someone shook his shoulder.

"Mr. Baggins, time to rise and shine, sir.  Leaky Cauldron.  Your stop."

Harry groaned.  Already?  He'd barely fallen to sleep.  "What time is it?"

"Sunrise.  You've picked a perfect time for travelling, sir.  There's barely a soul astir," Phillo Philpot said with a joyful flare.

Harry groaned and tried to get up.

"All right there, Mr. Baggins?"

"M'fine."  Harry struggled to his feet searching for his glasses.  "Have you seen my glasses?"

"Here you are, sir!  Right on the bed where you left them."  The overly happy attendant put the glasses on Harry's face cockeyed, leaving Harry half blind and fumbling to right them as he walked toward the door.

"Let me help, sir."  Harry stumbled down the stairs and would have fallen if Phillo hadn't been holding his arm the entire time.  He sank gratefully to the ground, his back against the wall of The Leaky Cauldron, hoping the world would stop spinning.  He was hungry and tired.  And he still had a ways to go before he reached safety.  

Phillo hopped back on the bus and waved frantically from the door as it pulled away.  "And thank you for choosing the Knight Bus as your mode of transportation this evening, Mr. Baggins. We've enjoyed your company!"  

Harry winced at the noise as the bus exploded into motion yet again.  His head pounded and his stomach growled.  He really needed something to eat, and a bed that didn't move.  That would be his first priority.  Then, he'd go to Hogwarts.  Dumbledore would know what to do.  He always did.

Harry sighed and, using the wall for balance, rose from the ground.  The dizziness from earlier was gone for the moment and Harry took advantage of the situation to slip inside the inn as quietly as he could.  Fortunately, the innkeeper Tom was nowhere to be seen and Harry rushed to the fireplace.  Since he'd had no idea what the schedule was for the train, his only hope of reaching Hogwarts quickly rested with the floo system.  And the soot would help hide his telltale scar on the other end.  

Taking a handful of power, he threw it into the fireplace, stepped inside and spoke, "The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmede," as loudly as he dared.

As Harry tumbled out of the fireplace, his world burst into agony, terror, and noise.  Terrible heat licked at his skin and filled his mouth and nose with smoke.  He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe.  His eyes watered in an attempt to clear them.  He coughed and coughed, waving his hands around in vain trying to clear the air.  Fire.  The restaurant was on fire!

He had to get out.  Outside where it was safe, but which way?  He flashed back onto his primary school training.  The floor.   Get onto the floor where the air was clearer.  Harry fell to his knees, still coughing and rubbing his eyes.  It was so hard to think.  What next?  What next?  Where was the door?  

Harry started crawling along the floor staying as far from the heat as he could.  He had no sense of direction in the blaze and the roar of the flames drowned out any other sound.  He just had to keep moving away from the heat.  It was his only chance.  Beams fell around him and all he could think was, 'get out, get out, get out'.  

An explosion to his right disintegrated the wall and opened a pathway outside.  As quickly as he could, Harry scrambled for that blessed hole and tumbled out into fresh air.  Blessed fresh air.  He rolled away from the burning building concentrating solely on clearing his lungs.  It was several more moments before the world around him began to penetrate the need for oxygen.  

Screams, curses, and horrifying laughter echoed around him as people fled in panic from the battle he'd unknowingly flooed right into.  Just his luck, Hogsmede was under attack from the Death Eaters.  It couldn't be anyone else.  

Struggling to his feet, Harry searched his pocket for his wand.  His mind was torn between hiding and jumping into the fight.  The choice was taken from him seconds later as a masked and robed figure stalked toward him.  The force of a punishing pummeling hex threw Harry back, stealing his breath once again before he'd even had the chance to raise his wand in defence.  The Death Eater was toying with him, intent on torture not killing. 

He didn't understand.  Why not Avada Kedavra?  

Another curse lashed the morning, and Harry cringed waiting for it strike.  Nothing happened.  He opened his eyes to see his opponent crumpled on the ground screaming, his body contorted beyond all human ability.  He watched unable to care as the bones in the Death Eater's arms and legs began to snap under the strain.  His screams ceased abruptly as his neck bent back in an impossibly angle.  Dead.  

What was **_that_** hex? Whatever it was, Harry wasn't too thrilled on meeting the person who threw it, jumped to his feet, and ran.   

Loud cracks exploded around him, missed curses and hexes striking empty air where he'd been just seconds before.  His side hurt, his lungs ached, but he didn't stop for a second.  If he stopped moving, they would get him.  He didn't know who'd killed the Death Eater, but whoever it was, thought he was one too…or just didn't care.  

Harry weaved in and out of the buildings as Aurors began to apparate in to join the fight.  Tossing out the spare stunning curse or expellimentarius, Harry did what he could to disarm the enemy.  No one knew he was there, nor who he was and for the moment, that was just fine.  He had no idea what was going on and felt exposed.  And worse yet, no one to guard his back.  

He couldn't remain out in the open and besides, what could he do in all of the confusion?  He didn't even know who was on whose side.  Was it an internal war among the Death Eaters?  Did Voldemort finally lose it and start killing his own people?

As the fighting began to die down, Harry slipped into an alleyway to make his way to the school.  He would be in a world of trouble with Dumbledore if the Aurors found him in Hogsmede instead of safely tucked away on Privot Drive.  There would be time to deal with the fallout tomorrow, after he'd had some sleep.  

Hogwarts loomed in front of him before his mind had time to process that he'd reached safety, his wand clutched uselessly in his hand.  Falling against the comforting stone, Harry clutched his side and just breathed.  Now all he had to do was get inside.

The doors opened as if he'd commanded them.

Harry froze.  Was someone coming out?  He desperately looked for a place to hide, but no one came through the doors.  Cautiously, he peaked around the edge.  Still no one.  Not one to question such good luck, Harry slipped inside and started up the stairs.  He was trailed by one of the portraits that whispered to him just as he reached the safety of Gryffindor Tower.  "Little snake, little snake, and just where have you been?"

"Is this where I'm supposed to respond with 'to London, to visit the Queen', because I haven't."

"Such spirit."  The portrait laughed quietly.  "Don't you know boy, that you shouldn't be out wandering alone in such dangerous times."

"What's it to you?"

"Because my little snake, you are misplaced.  A snake amid the lions, whatever would Godric say?"  The portrait slyly hinted.

"That I'm right where I belong!"  Harry hissed.  "Now, get out of my way."

"By all means, little snake. Go and hide."  The portrait laughed evilly.  

"Shut. Up.  One more word from you and you'll find your frame burning in the grate."  Harry threatened.

This only made the portrait laugh more, his voice echoing in the dark hallway.  "Definitely the wrong house for you, my boy."  The portrait swung open anyway, letting him inside.  "Good day, Harry Potter."

"Good **_riddance_**," Harry hissed just as he realized that he'd been speaking in Parseltongue.  Fuck.  There were only two people in the world that could speak it, himself and Voldemort.  If anyone had come along, it would have been a dead give away.  He'd have to be more careful in the future when he stumbled across Salazar Slytherin.  

"Think like a Muggle, Harry," he mumbled to himself.  "It's what's kept you alive."

---

tbc...  



	3. There's No Place Like Home

**Chapter Two: There's No Place Like Home **

--- 

Harry rolled over onto his back blinking his eyes against the sudden light invading the common room of Gryffindor Tower. Morning already? He blindly reached for his spectacles and as he put them on, noticed the other two occupants of the room. Professor Snape stood smirking by the windows, obviously the reason that the sun was now invading his sleep and the Headmaster sat calmly with a cup of tea in his hands. 

"Ugh, how did you know I was here?" 

"There's not much that escapes my attention in the castle, Harry." Dumbledore twinkled. 

Harry looked around the room and spotted a familiar painting. "You mean someone ratted me out." He glared. Salazar smirked back at him. 

"It was for your own good, my boy. You mustn't blame him for watching out for your welfare." 

Harry fumed silently. 

"Well, Harry. I must say you gave us quite a scare yesterday running away from home like that and appearing in the middle of a battle in Hogsmeade." 

"I didn't run away." Harry mumbled as he sat up straightening his robes. 

"And I suppose that your presence here right now is a figment of our imaginations also, Potter?" Snape snapped as he crossed the room to loom over him. 

"N…no." Harry stuttered, momentarily put off. "I, um, just left." He shrugged. 

"Without regards to all the hard work we've taken to assure your safety!" Snape roared. 

"Now, Severus." Albus admonished. "Let the boy speak." 

"Look, I'm sixteen now. They don't want me there anymore than I want to be there, so I left." Harry stood up and glared right back at Snape. 

"Do you have any idea of the trouble you've caused? The lives you've risked and, I might add, forfeited yesterday!" Snape spat. 

"I. Didn't. Do. Anything. Wrong!" Harry yelled right back. 

"Why can't you just follow the rules. Just like your father…" 

"NO! Don't you even bring my father into this. You've no right." 

"I have every right." 

"Harry! Severus! Sit down now!" Dumbledore yelled. Once they were both seated and somewhat calmed, Harry turned toward the Headmaster. "Harry, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your relatives are no longer among the living." 

Harry sighed. "How?" 

"Voldemort." 

A twinge of guilt fluttered in his stomach. After a moment of thought, he rose from the chair. "Well, that's it then. I can't go back there." 

"No tears? No cries of remorse or unfairness for their ill-timed deaths, Potter?" Snape sneered. Harry simply looked at him with disgust and refused to rise to the bait. 

"Harry, you don't seem to understand. Your blood protected them as much as theirs protected you. Without that protection, you won't be safe this summer." 

Harry snorted. As if he was ever 'safe'. He felt a moment of sadness that someone else had died, but it was hard to feel more than pity. It wasn't as if his 'family' had loved him. He was pulled from his thoughts by Dumbledore's hand on his knee. 

"Harry, if Voldemort has but one of your possessions, just one, he can use that to affect a personal connection to you. It would be like handing him a key to your mind." 

Harry laughed. A bitter, hysterical laugh that seem to grate on Snape's nerves. Serves him right the miserable git. "There's nothing to find, Headmaster." 

"I don't understand." 

"No, you wouldn't." Harry mumbled. 

"Speak up, boy!" 

"I said, there's nothing at the Dursleys that Voldemort could possibly use to 'affect a personal connection to me'," Harry snarled back. 

"And just what makes you so sure?" Snape leaned forward, his every movement hinting at supremacy. 

"Because I am." And Harry left it at that. "You'll just have to trust me." He crossed his arms over his chest imitating Snape again. 

"Forgive me if I don't." 

"Not likely." 

"Severus, I think it would be beneficial for you to verify young Mr. Potter's claims. I want you to apparate to Number 4 Privet Drive and bring back with you anything of Harry's that he's left behind. Down to the smallest blanket that might have been his as a babe." The Headmaster rose from his seat. "Now that that's settled, Harry, I expect you downstairs to eat in half an hour. We'll discuss sleep arrangements and rules then. Dobby has been most helpful in procuring a change of robes and personal items for you. Make use of them will you?" 

Dumbledore patted his head and left him alone with Snape. "Watch your step, Potter. I'll not have you underneath my feet for what's left of the holidays. I have important things to attend to. I assure you, if you can't find a good use for your time, I will." 

Harry smirked at his professor. "I'll try not to cause you too much trouble, Professor." 

"See that you don't." Snape glared and left. 

After his teacher left, Harry pulled his trunk from his pocket. Everything that he owed or that meant anything to him was in the shrunken chest. Dudley's broken toys that he had filched and hidden in his cupboard. His invisibility cloak that allowed him to roam the castle at night and pretend that he was 'just a normal boy'. The pictures of the parents that he would never know and now, after viewing Snape's pensieve, might not want to know so well. Illusions were much easier to believe if he didn't try so hard to break them. 

He put his trunk back in his pocket. "And now that I know what Voldemort needs, I don't think I'll let it out of my sight." 

---

"What do you make of the boy, Severus?" 

Severus sat in the chair in front of Albus' desk with his fingers steepled. "I would venture a guess that he's hiding something from us. You're positive he didn't run away?" 

"No, however, there are no indications that what he said wasn't the truth. I am disturbed by his lack of emotion over his relatives deaths." 

"I'll look into it. No alarms? No underage magic use?" 

"None, the boy is sixteen, Severus. He could be doing magic right now and we wouldn't know. He is of age." 

"And yet, Voldemort penetrated the defenses and killed nearly everyone on the street. This is unsettling, Albus. I don't like it." 

"Neither do I, my boy. Neither do I." 

--- 

With the wards collapsed around Little Whinging, it was a simple matter for Severus to apparate onto Privet Drive. Casting a 'Notice Me Not' spell to keep any attention away from himself, Severus slipped into the back door of Potter's house. He sneered at the clean, uncluttered confines of the abode. Nothing but perfection for the boy and he didn't even care that the muggles were dead. He snorted and moved on determined to root out the Potter brat's possessions. He pulled out his wand and with a small incantation began searching through the cabinets. There must be something here, he growled to himself frustrated. A cup, a saucer, a favourite mug used for morning tea. 

Nothing. 

Severus moved on to the lounge. Pictures decorated the walls, but again none of the Potter boy. No tell tale age spots upon the walls to indicate a frame had been removed. No empty space surrounded by dust to indicate some small possession once graced its surface. No tingle of magical presence what so ever beyond the harsh, bitter aftertaste of Avada Kedavra. 

Severus began to suspect that he was in the wrong dwelling. He searched the cupboard under the stairs. Nothing but the stale air of a storage bin, boxes and some strange muggle 'thing'. 

He went upstairs. Room after room after room of 'muggleness'. He finally reached the locked storage cupboard at the end of the hallway. Opening the door with a softly muttered Alohamora, Severus walked into the bare room. It reeked of old Quidditch robes, unwashed bodies and something that reminded him heavily of Voldemort. Despair or perhaps resignation. The ratty bedclothes, scratched furniture and bars upon the windows led Severus to conclude that these particular muggles had kept an animal confined to the room. However, there was no evidence that Potter had ever lived here. 

It was time to contact Dumbledore. He pulled a mirror from his pocket and with a muttered spell, the Headmaster's twinkling visage appeared. "Albus, humour me a moment. Where am I?" 

"Number 4 Privet Drive. Have you located all of Mr. Potter's belongings?" 

"Albus, there's nothing here to indicate the boy ever lived here." 

"Nothing?" 

"Nothing." 

"Then we must assume that Voldemort has taken everything." Dumbledore sighed. "Return to Hogwarts immediately. We must prepare." 

Severus nodded and tucked the mirror back into his robe. Seconds later he was gone. 

--- 

Harry ate his breakfast slowly even though he was famished. It had been a couple of days since he last ate properly and experience taught him that he'd be in the loo throwing everything back up if he ate too quickly, too much, or foods that were too heavy. 

"Aren't you hungry, Harry?" 

Harry nearly fell out of his seat at the Headmaster's appearance. "M fine. My stomach is just a little upset." 

"Perfectly understandable considering the day you had yesterday. I'm afraid that we are going to have to place some restraints on your person, Harry." 

"Restraints?" 

Severus stalked into the Hall causing Harry to jump yet again. "Yes, Mr. Potter. Rules. Ones you cannot afford to break. If you value your life." 

"Professor Snape was unable to locate your belongings, Harry. This puts us at a distinct disadvantage concerning your safety. Therefore, I must insist that you never allow yourself to be alone. While most of the professors are busy tasks I've assigned them over the summer, there should be one in residence here at the castle at all times. I've also instructed the Order to keep an eye on you as well." 

"You mean that I've got sitters?" Harry was appalled. 

"If you hadn't run away from home, boy, you wouldn't 'need' a sitter. Personally, I think it will do you some good to have boundaries." Severus piled eggs onto his plate as he smirked at Harry. 

Harry threw his spoon on the table. "I. Didn't. Run. Away!" 

Severus merely snorted softly and began eating his breakfast. 

"Harry this is for your own protection," Dumbledore began before Harry interrupted him yet again. 

"Well then teach me to protect myself! I'm tired of being treated as some fragile _**thing**_ that needs to be coddled at every turn." 

"Excellent idea. Until the new school term begins in another month, you will spend your time with your Professors expanding your knowledge of magic. It can't hurt and it will give you something to occupy your time. Now…as to your sleeping arrangements, I've instructed Dobby to prepare the spare room in the middle of the teachers' quarters. You are to remain there unless escorted by one of your Professors. Dobby will certainly retrieve anything you might need from the Library or the Kitchens if we are unavailable to you. As I understand it, you are quite close to the elf, so he should be able to provide you with companionship while we are otherwise engaged. Any questions?" 

Harry was stunned. Not only was he trapped in the only place he'd dared to call home but his movements would be monitored at all times. By Dobby no less. Why did he think coming here would be good idea again? Oh right. Food. Shelter. Protection from Voldemort and a fate worse than death. Although, he still wasn't sure what that was. 

"If you're finished, Mr. Potter? I have business to attend to. You can spend your morning with me in the dungeons…cleaning." Snape rose from his chair, his own breakfast barely touched. 

"Great, just great." He'd traded one house elf position for another. 

"What was that, Potter?" 

"Nothing." Harry sulked. 

"Good, then follow me. I may not be able to take points during the summer, but I can certainly make your life…uncomfortable." Harry could swear Snape looked happy at the prospect. 

Harry pushed his chair back and followed his Professor. It was going to be a long day. A very long day. 


	4. Author's Notes

06 Nov 03 - Some minor notes:  
  
I know, I know...it's taken me a long while to update this story, but I am still working on it. And to answer a few questions...  
  
No, I plan to update as often as possible. Last year was a busy year for me and I didn't have much time to work on the story...and the muses were on strike. Sorry about that.  
  
The story is fully outlined and at the moment has about twenty five chapters. I can't promise to update every month, but I will try. I don't write linearly so some chapters will come quicker than others, as they are already complete.   
  
The story is extremely complex from my point of view and I don't want to screw it up by rushing it. Please be patient with me and I adore hearing from each and every one of my reviewers what you've liked and not liked and treasure them all.   
  
The next update will probably be in a week as the next chapter is almost finished. Sorry, I do work and have a busy life. Family must come first.  
  
Rae 


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